


Lungs

by Anythingtoasted



Series: Feet of Clay [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anythingtoasted/pseuds/Anythingtoasted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living together during the war. SiriusRemus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this is already written, so don't worry about updating; ask and ye shall recieve! I hope you enjoy this, it takes place in the same universe as my other fics, "Peat Heart" and "Feet of Clay", (chronologically, this is the second, "Feet of Clay" being the first), and is something like my baby. If you read it, please leave a comment, even if it's only "You suck"(!)

“I’m going to kill myself.” James moaned, and Sirius, on the other side of the dressing-room curtain, rolled his eyes.

 

“No you’re not.”

 

“I am. I look like a fucking penguin.”

 

“Everyone looks like a fucking penguin in a three piece suit.”

 

James burst through the curtains angrily, and stood in front of his friend. He whirled his arms. “I look fucking ridiculous!”

 

Sirius looked around. “Would you shut up? There are kids about, and we don’t want to attract attention, you prat.” James huffed and slumped his shoulders. He moved his neck from side to side and tugged at his collar with one hand.

 

“It’s too fucking tight. It doesn’t fit. I feel like a fucking idiot.”

 

“Alice says it’s no easier for Evans, you know. Apparently yesterday she spent five hours just trying to walk in her dress.”

 

James wrinkled his nose dismissively. “Yeah, well. She’s a smart girl. She can deal with it.” He narrowed his eyes. “And don’t call her Evans, Pads. It’s rude. Plus, she won’t be Evans for much longer, anyway.” He swept the curtains of the changing room aside, giving Sirius a good view of the chaos he’d left in the cubicle, and peered into the mirror from the corridor. The low lights made his forehead appear nine times its normal size, and his face was red and shiny. “If she wants to marry a fucking penguin, that is.” He muttered, and Sirius chuckled.

 

“You look fine, Prongs.”

 

“’Fine’ isn’t good enough.” He scuffed his new, shiny shoes on the floor, still tugging at the collar. Sirius tried to hide his amusement and failed, smirking widely.

 

“Prongs.” James looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Prongs, you look _fine.”_ James’ shoulders bowed and he all but collapsed against the doorframe to the changing-room. Sirius shook his head. “Have you got a tie yet?” James ducked into the cubicle for a second, grabbed something, and thrust it at Sirius. It was a tie, blue, and Sirius raised his eyebrows. James avoided his eyes.

 

“Couldn’t do it.”

 

Sirius laughed. “You’ve _forgotten_ how to tie a tie?”

 

“No, I’m just – too stressed to do it. Or something.”

 

“You wore a tie every single day for _seven years,_ Prongs.”

 

“Shut up, or you’re out of the wedding.” He waved the tie in Sirius’ face, and Sirius raised his hands in surrender.

 

“Okay! I’ll do it for you. We have to see how you look with the tie, anyway.”

 

“Might as well be a fucking noose.” James muttered petulantly, looking at the ground when Sirius put the length of cloth around his neck, and tied it in a perfect Windsor knot, looking at James sarcastically the entire time. When James refused, still, to meet his eyes, he pulled the tie choke-tight against the other man’s neck. James jumped. “What’re you doing?” He shoved Sirius’ hands away and loosened it clumsily, himself. Sirius stepped back and rocked on his heels.

 

“Are you quite finished?” He asked, and James huffed, peering at himself in the mirror again. Sirius stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “See? You look fine. Blue brings out your eyes, etcetera. Can we get mine, now?”

 

James looked at himself with a sour expression, but nodded. “Fine. Fine. We’ll get yours.”

 

Five minutes later, James sat with his knees drawn up, back to the wall, palms towards the sky. “Why, Merlin? Why have you forsaken me?” He moaned, looking at the ceiling, as Sirius tutted and preened, pulling at his lapel.

 

“Stop being melodramatic, Prongs.”

 

“I’m not! Lily is going to leave me for you if you turn up to the wedding like that, can’t you wear a fucking bag on your head, or eat some cake, or, or…something?”

 

Sirius grinned. “Much as I appreciate the sentiment, I’m not interested in your wife-to-be.”

 

“Liar. Everyone’s interested in her, she’s the best-looking girl in the fucking country.”

 

“What can I say?” Sirius continued to look in the mirror, grey eyes admiring himself. “Love is blind.” James sagged to the side and lay on the floor for a moment before pulling himself to his feet. Sirius eyed him, amused. “Besides, I’m not a masochist like you; I prefer birds who don’t shout at me every few seconds.”

 

“She’s _sexy_ when she’s angry.”

 

“Knowing you think that really does explain a lot.”

 

James shoved him with two hands back into the cubicle, and drew the curtain. He leaned against the opposite wall and folded his arms. “Change back, traitor. I’m sick of looking at you.” Sirius laughed again, and the noise travelled over the top of the cubicle, making James aim a violent kick through the curtain. He looked sheepish when a shop assistant came around the corner and raised her eyebrows, and tried to communicate ‘he is a bastard!’ without words. She took his gesturing, probably, to mean ‘I am clinically insane’ but it had the desired effect because she toddled away. Sirius emerged dramatically from behind the curtain, back in jeans and t-shirt, and James regarded him with a critical eye. “You are a bastard.”

 

“Being this beautiful really is a burden, Prongs.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Sirius carried the suit, carefully folded and back on his hanger, over one arm. He looked at James. “Are we ready to go?”

 

James nodded. “We’ve just got to meet with Moony, I think he’s trying to buy us a present.”

 

“So you’ll be receiving, very soon, a large book?”

 

“That’s right.” James smirked, and walked out of the changing rooms. Sirius followed. “How have you two been, anyway? Is he driving you insane, living together?”

 

Sirius shrugged. “It’s just like school, really. I’m used to it.”

 

James clucked his tongue. “Pity. I was hoping he’d have some really horrible habits to torture you with.”

 

“’Fraid it’s vice-versa.”

 

“Some things never change.” They reached the counter and Sirius pulled out a credit card. James looked at it suspiciously. “What’s that?”

 

“Muggle thing.” Sirius muttered out of the corner of his mouth, eyes on the bewildered assistant, scanning their things. He smiled wearily at her. “Moony set me up.”

 

“What’s it for?”

 

“I’m buying you the suit, Prongs. Must you be so indelicate?” James made as if to take the card, but Sirius held it out of reach. “I insist. What else is inheritance money for? Consider it a gift.”

 

“…Thanks, mate.” James watched as Sirius swiped the card with a wink at the assistant, who smiled as she bagged the suits. As they walked away, James elbowed him. “You know, I fully expect a proper gift, too.”

 

“You’ll get one. Wouldn’t open it in front of your mum though, it’s, er. For the honeymoon.”

 

James looked unsurprised. “Of course it is. God forbid you get me anything _normal_.”

 

“Oh, please. You can have all the self-cleaning cauldrons and boggart-repellers you like when you’re old and grey.”  James shrugged, conceding. They left the shop and stood outside, Sirius scanning the crowd. “Where’s Moony?” James put his hands in his pockets.

 

“He’ll be along. You’re right protective of him these days, Pads. It’s only a muggle shopping centre.”

 

Sirius looked embarrassed but said nothing, trying to hide the way he squinted into the throngs of muggles with their armfuls of Christmas gifts and decorations. It was only September, but already there were thousands upon thousands of green and red lights and decorations spanning the shiny white shopping centre’s entire length. In Diagon Alley, in a slightly more rustic fashion, things were basically the same. Sirius waved with forced nonchalance as their strawberry-blonde haired friend emerged through the crowd, arms full of bags, fighting his way against a torrent of people going in the other direction. Remus waved back with difficulty, bulldozed by and apologising to a mother and three muggle boys, all in tracksuits. He wandered over, looking flushed.

 

“Alright, Moons? Need some help?” Remus pulled the bags away from James’ proffered hand.

 

“Not from you; your present is somewhere in here and I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you; and as you know, that’s quite far.” James winced at the memory as Remus pulled some of the bags off his hands and gave them to Sirius, instead, who staggered slightly from the weight.

 

“Jesus, Moons, what’re you getting them?”

 

“It’s not all presents. Some of it’s things Lily asked me to get.”

 

 Sirius shrugged and looked at James. “We ready to go, or are you going to have the screaming ab dabs about something else?”

 

James looked a little offended, and sniffed. “No, I’m finished.” He peered at Remus as they started off, trying to look surreptitiously in the bags in the werewolf’s hands. Remus jerked them away. “You got your suit, right, Moony? All okay?” Remus nodded.

 

“Perfect. And you’ll be glad to know that I look constipated in it, so I won’t be drawing attention away from you.”

 

James elbowed Sirius. “See! This one’s a _proper_ friend. Unlike you. You bastard.”

 

Remus leaned around James to look at Sirius, confused. The corner of Sirius’ mouth quirked upwards. “Prongs is upset because I look fit in my suit, and he’s convinced he looks like an awkward penguin.”

 

Remus grinned. “At least there’ll be two of us.”

 

James sighed. “If you two gits were my real friends, you-“ he pointed at Sirius, “Would start casting stinging hexes on yourself, and eating chocolate cake, and you-“ he pointed at Remus, “Would help him.”

 

Remus shrugged. “I doubt he looks better than you, James.” Sirius scoffed, mock-offended.

 

“Oh, the truth comes out!” He sighed. “You lecherous harlot. That’s not what you said last night.”

 

Remus adjusted the bags, which had been slipping through his hands. “You know us werewolves. We’re not to be trusted.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sirius smiled at him, and James tried for another look in Remus’ bags as the werewolf, again, pulled them away.

 

XXxXx

 

As the wedding started to die down James and Lily made the rounds of their guests politely, and relatives from both sides sat at tables with their faces lolling towards their drinks, or gave up entirely and left, leaning on eachother. The music grew quieter with each passing song, and various spinster aunts and ‘bachelor’ uncles staggered around.

 

“Do you want that?” Remus leaned against the buffet table, hands behind his back, and nodded at James and Lily, dancing with Lily’s younger cousins. Sirius, watching them, rolled his shoulders.

 

“That? No. Not really.” Voice a little quiet, distant, he smirked when James twirled a tiny ginger girl, shrugging at Lily as the child stood on his feet and he moved in an awkward waltz. He looked at Remus’ face. “Why?”

 

“I just wondered.”

 

Sirius raised his eyebrows and smiled quizzically. He groped blindly behind them, still looking at the dancefloor, and laid his hand over one of Remus’, on the table, looking vaguely around for those who might be watching. “You feeling insecure, Moons? Worried I’ll run off with some bint, so I can get married and have a million kids?” the corner of Remus’ mouth quirked upwards.

 

“No. Twat.” He turned to watch James and Lily again, but flipped his hand over to link his fingers with Sirius’. “I just wondered.”

 

Sirius looked at him soft, worried. “Are you okay?”

 

 

“Yes.” The corners of Remus’ eyes creased when James and Lily waved, removing themselves from the children, and trotted over. He let go, slowly, of Sirius’ hand, and waved back. James slouched up to them eagerly, Lily in tow, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, rocking on his heels. Lily looked at Remus, rolling her eyes but smiling. James glanced briefly back at the dance floor.

 

“That little one is angling to replace you, Lils.” He grinned roguishly and Lily punched him in the shoulder, turning to Remus.

 

“He’s an idiot. Are you two okay? Having fun?” She smiled, fretful, and Remus shook his head at her.

 

“You really have to stop asking us that, Lily. We’re having a wonderful time. This is wonderful.” Lily brightened considerably and grabbed fistfuls of the skirt of her dress, swaying a little from side to side, giddy.

 

“It is, isn’t it?” Her eyes were wide, her cheeks red. She looked sideways at James. “I was so worried this one wouldn’t show up, you know, I was going spare this morning…” Sirius coughed in disbelief.

 

“ _You_ were worried _he_ wouldn’t show up?!” He barked a laugh. “Prongs here was so convinced this was an elaborate prank, I almost had to strangle him.” He jerked a thumb at Remus. “And _he’s_ the only thing that stopped me from kicking him through the tears, and the anguish, and the ‘why _would_ she turn up, Sirius? Am I _ugly_ , Sirius? Is there something wrong with my face, Sirius? Look at my arse, Sirius, will anyone _ever_ fancy me?!’” He pulled a face as James flapped his mouth and arms indignantly. “Honestly, I’m just glad he’s got you tied down, and I can breathe again.”

 

Lily laughed, pulled James’ face towards her and kissed his cheek. “You’re so lucky I find that adorable.” She said to him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. James looked at Sirius.

 

“Well, now that you’ve mortified me – _again –“_ (Sirius’ best-man’s speech hadn’t been for the faint-hearted – Remus was almost positive Lily’s mother was unconscious) “Are you up for coming back to ours? Pete should be there, he’s finally finished work, said he could drop round and see us again, wish us well.” Sirius nodded, leaning back on the table, but Remus winced.

 

“I wish I could, Prongs, but I’ve got to leave early for tomorrow.” He frowned. “I’m sorry.”

 

James shrugged. “It’s okay, Moons. You do what you have to. Pads, though?” He glanced at the black-haired man, who nodded, and both newlyweds smiled. Lily pulled Remus into a hug.

 

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” She said in his ear, and Remus hugged her back, nodding.

 

“Have you ever known me to be anything else?” She laughed, but only softly. James hugged Remus one-armed, muttering goodbye, and the werewolf looked at Sirius. “I really should be going now.” He glanced at the exit to the marquee, and Sirius nodded.

 

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get back?”

 

“Mm. Don’t make a mess in the house.”

 

“No, mother. I won’t.” Sirius smiled but his forehead creased with worry; he made no move to touch Remus, just inclined his head as the werewolf turned to go. When he had left, the crack of his apparition still echoing, Sirius glanced back at James and Lily, who looked a little distraught. He chuckled. “What?” James shrugged.

 

“Nothing. Shall we?”

 

Lily elbowed him. “We should really say goodbye.”

 

James near enough pouted. “But it’s _boring,_ and your auntie tried to kiss me, last time!” Lily snorted.

 

“Then you should let her, she’s not bad for eighty-five and lord knows you can’t afford to be picky, at your age.” James pretended to mull it over, then kissed Lily, laughing. He turned to look at Sirius, face still close to hers. “We’ll meet you back at the flat?”

 

“Definitely.” But before he apparated to theirs, he went home. In the doorway, Remus was about to leave just as Sirius arrived on the doorstep. He laughed.

 

“That was quick.”

 

Sirius pulled him close and hugged him tightly, nose in his shoulder. “Be careful.”

 

Remus staggered, a little taken aback. “…Of course I will. What brought this on?”

 

Sirius mumbled something into his shoulder, then pulled back and kissed him. “I love you.” Remus chuckled.

 

“I know that, you fool. I love you too.”

 

Sirius squeezed him once more, then stepped away. “Okay. Well.” He looked at the floor.

 

Remus tucked a strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear, cupping his face with a hand. “I’ll be back soon _._ ” He smiled. “Go. Lily and James will be looking for you.”

 

Sirius nodded, eyes still on the ground, moved away and then apparated, dark hair hanging around his face. Remus looked at the space where he had been only momentarily, then locked the door behind him and hefted his case towards the road in front of their flat, sticking his wand-arm out and waiting for the Knight Bus, in silence.

 

XxX

 

In the morning, Sirius woke to an owl from James, letting him know they’d left for Paris, and adding as a post-script; _“married sex is great; I would seriously recommend it.”_ Sirius snorted and went into the kitchen so that he could stick the letter to the fridge. He went inside the white box for food and smiled tiredly at the various notes from Remus, telling him how to use the cooker, and the microwave, and so on. He pulled out a particularly sticky-looking old takeaway and put it into the microwave.

 

Living like a muggle did not come easily to him, but living entirely like a wizard didn’t come easily to Remus, either, so they struck a fine compromise; Sirius attempted to use the muggle appliances before giving up and using magic – as he did now, when the microwave took too long – and Remus rolled his eyes and sighed and did the cooking for him, when he was home. He insisted that muggle cooking tasted better, and even though Sirius couldn’t tell the difference, he was obligated to agree.

 

It was cold in the house, their kitchen in disarray, Sirius suffering from a mild hangover. He hadn’t been drunk at the wedding – Remus didn’t drink and so Sirius cut his own drinking way down, except when he went out with James – but at James’ flat the night before, they’d gotten a little bit merry, James a little distraught, Sirius supposed, over Peter’s failure to turn up. Again.

Sirius poked at the congealed mass of yellow rice in its little foil tray, wondering at the many ways a year away from school had changed him. Incrementally, like water slipping through his hands, he was becoming an adult and leaving so many things behind. But it was a good feeling, like he’d been disappointed by adolescence, like it was just – more _fun_ to be wiser, to know what the hell you were doing on a day-to-day basis, as opposed to stumbling blindly through everything in a haze of hormones.

 

Although, admittedly, this newfound confidence did not apply to himself and Remus somehow. He found himself, by turns, pathetic and cloying, and then aloof and sarcastic and biting, whereas Remus seemed to maintain an uncanny composure, soft when he needed to be, strong when it was absolutely necessary. He was an unerring constant in Sirius’ life, but simultaneously made him feel feeble and pathetic, Sirius never admitting that he didn’t _want_ to be dominant, didn’t _want_ to be in charge, didn’t want the things he was supposed to. What he wanted, really, unbearably, was to be consumed by Remus, and for the werewolf to come home.

 

But there was work and reports for the ministry, there was keeping the place clean before Remus returned, there was wondering if Lily and James knew about them, and if it made them sick. He grimaced after a few mouthfuls of the rice, regretting his choosing it over cereal but suddenly not hungry. He scraped it into the bin and took the bin out, trotting down three flights of stairs, keys jangling in his hand (the last time he’d locked himself out, one of their elderly neighbours had seen him magic it open again; Remus had been furious, even though said neighbour was decidedly mad, and probably hadn’t noticed anything unusual).

 

Morning was foggy and light, frost crusting the grey plastic bins, his bare feet cold on the ground. Remus’ t-shirt, ill-fitting, plain, was folded from sleep. As he deposited the bag he looked around at the London street, at the few people up so early; most of them well-dressed and rushing, some stumbling home in brightly-coloured clothes, others doing just what he was – taking in the morning with a breath of wonder, lungs filling with ice, awake.

 

He almost couldn’t bear to go back inside, feeling that he was experiencing a moment with these other people, these people who lived where he lived; but it had to end, and with a chuckle at his own foolishness, he nodded at the outside briefly, and went back inside.

 

XxX

_27 th December, 1979_

_Padfoot,_

_Work is slow and the days are long. Yesterday we were in the North, though, as you know, I can’t tell you where. I’ll be back in a few days and we’ll talk – I hope you’re alright without me, without much work to do. Let me know if they start sending you into the field again._

_Here’s something I_ can _say - I keep turning around to tell you something funny, and your absence surprises me. You’ll think I’m silly, I know. It’s only been a week, after all, but there it is. Make of it what you will._

_Alastor says soon we might not be able to send letters, for fear of them being read; I’m not sure how much I believe him. He’s the paranoid sort, after all._

_If you don’t remember how to work the oven and microwave, ask me; I’d rather you burnt the house down than kept ordering takeaways. Don’t pull that face. I say these things because – well. You know._

_Yours,_

_Remus._


End file.
